XV
During the remainder of that afternoon and evening John was oppressed bya vague sense of the splendor of his surroundings and his companion'smysterious capacity for achieving impossibilities. Their visits to thetailors, the shirt-makers, the hosiers, and the boot-makers almostresembled a royal progress. All difficulties were waved aside. Thatnight he dined, clothed like other men from head to foot, in the loftydining room of one of the most exclusive clubs in London. The princeproved an agreeable if somewhat reticent companion. He introduced Johnto many well-known people, always with that little note of personalinterest in his few words of presentation which gave a certainsignificance to the ceremony.
From the club, where the question of John's proposed membership, theprince acting as his sponsor, was favorably discussed with severalmembers of the committee, they drove to Covent Garden, and for the firsttime in his life John entered the famous opera-house. The prince,preceded by an attendant, led the way to a box upon the second tier. Awoman turned her head as they entered and stretched out her hand, whichthe prince raised to his lips.
"You see, I have taken you at your word, Eugene," she remarked. "So manyevenings I have looked longingly from my stall at your empty box.To-night I summoned up all my courage, and here I am!"
"You give me a double pleasure, dear lady," the prince declared. "Notonly is it a joy to be your host, but you give me also the opportunityof presenting to you my friend, John Strangewey. Strangewey, this is myvery distant relative and very dear friend, Lady Hilda Mulloch."
Lady Hilda smiled graciously at John. She was apparently of a littleless than middle age, with dark bands of chestnut hair surmounted by atiara. Her face was the face of a clever and still beautiful woman; herfigure slender and dignified; her voice low and delightful.
"Are you paying your nightly homage to Calavera, Mr. Strangewey, or areyou only an occasional visitor?" she asked.
"This is my first visit of any sort to Covent Garden," John told her.
She looked at him with as much surprise as good breeding permitted.John, who had not as yet sat down, seemed almost preternaturally tall inthat small box, with its low ceiling. He was looking around the housewith the enthusiasm of a boy. Lady Hilda glanced away from him towardthe prince, and smiled; then she looked back at John. There wassomething like admiration in her face.
"Do you live abroad?" she asked.
John shook his head.
"I live in Cumberland," he said. "Many people here seem to think thatthat is the same thing. My brother and I have a farm there."
"But you visit London occasionally, surely?"
"I have not been in London," John told her, "since I passed through iton my way home from Oxford, eight years ago."
"But why not?" she persisted.
John laughed a little.
"Well, really," he admitted, "when I come to think of it seriously, Iscarcely know. I have lived alone with an elder brother, who hatesLondon and would be very unhappy if I got into the way of coming upregularly. I fancy that I have rather grown into his way of thinking. Iam quite satisfied--or rather I have been quite satisfied--to live downthere all the year round."
"I have never heard anything so extraordinary in my life!" the womandeclared frankly. "Is it the prince who has induced you to break out ofyour seclusion?"
"Our young friend," the prince explained, "finds himself suddenly inaltered circumstances. He has been left a large fortune, and has come tospend it. Incidentally, I hope, he has come to see something more ofyour sex than is possible among his mountain wilds. He has come, inshort, to look a little way into life."
Lady Hilda leaned back in her chair.
"How romantic!"
"The prince amuses himself," John assured her. "I don't suppose I shallstay very long in London. I want just to try it for a time."
She looked at him almost wistfully. She was a woman with brains; a womannotorious for the freedom of her life, for her intellectual gifts, forher almost brutal disregard of the conventions of her class. Thepsychological interest of John Strangewey's situation appealed to herpowerfully. Besides, she had a weakness for handsome men.
"Of course, it all sounds like a fairy tale," she declared. "Tell meexactly, please, how long you have been in London."
"About forty-eight hours," he answered.
"And what did you do last night?"
"I dined with two friends, we went to the Palace, and one of them tookme to a supper club."
She made a little grimace.
"You began in somewhat obvious fashion," she remarked.
"I can vouch for the friends," the prince observed, smiling.
"At any rate," said Lady Hilda, "I am glad to think that I shall be ableto watch you when you see Calavera dance for the first time."
The curtain rang up upon one of the most gorgeous and sensuous of theRussian ballets. John, who by their joint insistence was occupying thefront chair in the box, leaned forward in his place, his eyessteadfastly fixed upon the stage. Both the prince and Lady Hilda, in thebackground, although they occasionally glanced at the performance,devoted most of their attention to watching him.
As the story progressed and the music grew in passion andvoluptuousness, they distinctly saw his almost militant protest. Theysaw the knitting of his firm mouth and the slight contraction of hiseyebrows. The prince and his friend exchanged glances. She drew herchair a little farther back, and he followed her example.
"Where did you find anything so wonderful as this?" she murmured.
"Lost among the hills in Cumberland," the prince replied. "I have anestate up there--in fact, he and I are joint lords of the manor of thevillage in which he has lived."
"And you?" she whispered, glancing at John to be sure that she was notoverheard. "Where do you come in? An educator of the young? I don'tseem to see you in that role!"
A very rare and by no means pleasant smile twisted the corners of hislips for a moment.
"It is a long story."
"Can I be brought in?" she asked.
He nodded.
"It rests with you. It would suit my plans."
She toyed with her fan for a moment, looked restlessly at the stage andback again at John. Then she rose from her place and stood before thelooking-glass. From the greater obscurity of the box she motioned to theprince.
John remained entirely heedless of their movements. His eyes were stillriveted upon the stage, fascinated with the wonderful coloring, therealization of a new art.
"You and I," Lady Hilda whispered, "do not need to play about with thetruth, Eugene. What are you doing this for?"
"The idlest whim," the prince assured her quietly. "Look at him. Thinkfor a moment of his position--absolutely without experience, entirelyignorant about women, with a fortune one only dreams of, and probablythe handsomest animal in London. What is going to become of him?"
"I think I understand a little," she confessed.
"I think you do," the prince assented. "He has views, this young man. Itis my humor to see them dissipated. The modern _Sir Galahad_ alwaysirritated me a little."
She shrugged her shoulders.
"They'll never give him a chance, these women," she said. "Much betterhand him over to me."
The prince smiled enigmatically, and Lady Hilda returned to her seat.John was still leaning forward with his eyes fixed upon Calavera, whowas dancing alone now. The ballet was drawing toward the end. The musichad reached its climax of wild and passionate sensuousness, dominatedand inspired by the woman whose every movement and every glance seemedpart of some occult, dimly understood language.
When the curtain rang down, John, like many others, was confused.Nevertheless, after that first breathless pause, he stood up and joinedin the tumultuous applause.
"Well?" the prince asked.
John shook his head. "I don't know," he answered.
"Neither does any one else," Lady Hilda said. "Don't try to analyze yourimpressions for our benefit, Mr. Stran
gewey. I am exactly in yourposition, and I have been here a dozen times. Even to us hardened menand women of the world, this Russian music came as a surprise. Therewere parts of it you did not like, though, weren't there?"
"There were parts of it I hated," John agreed. "There were passages thatseemed to aim at discord in every sense of the word."
She nodded sympathetically. They were on their way down the broadstaircase.
"I wonder," she murmured, "whether I am going to be asked out tosupper?"
"Alas, not to-night, dear lady," the prince regretted. "I am having afew friends at Seyre House."
She shot a glance at him and shrugged her shoulders. She was evidentlydispleased.
"How much too bad!" she exclaimed. "I am not at all sure that it isright of you to invite Mr. Strangewey to one of your orgies. Arespectable little supper at the Carlton, and a cigarette in my libraryafterward, would have been a great deal better for both ofyou--certainly for Mr. Strangewey. I think I shall run away with him, asit is!"
The prince shrugged his shoulders.
"It is unfortunate," he sighed, "but we are both engaged. If you willgive us the opportunity some other evening--"
"I am not at all sure that I shall have anything more to do with you,Eugene," she declared. "You are not behaving nicely. Will you come andsee me while you are in town, Mr. Strangewey?" she added, turning toJohn. "I suppose you can be trusted to reach No. 21 Pont Street withoutyour Mephistophelian chaperon?"
"I should like to very much," he replied. "I think," he added, a littlehesitatingly, "that I have read one of your books of travel. It is veryinteresting to meet you."
"So my fame has really reached Cumberland!" she laughed. "You must comeand talk to me one afternoon quite soon. Will you? I want so much tohear your impressions of London. I am always in between six and seven;or if you want to come earlier, I will try to be in if you telephone."
"I will come with pleasure," John promised.
They stood for a few moments in the crowded vestibule until Lady HildaMulloch's car was called. The prince stood back, allowing John to escorther to the door. She detained him for a moment after she had taken herseat, and leaned out of the window, her fingers still in his hand.
"Be careful!" she whispered. "The prince's supper parties are just alittle--shall I say banal? There are better things if one waits!"
The Hillman Page 15
